The Assassin (A Marvel Fanfiction)
by Kezzlebezzle
Summary: This is Gamora's story. It is the story of her childhood. Of when she was young. And the fires started. And the ships came down. And her parents were slaughtered in cold blood. This is a story of a fighting spirit.
1. Chapter 1

_**Please let me know what you think! Should I continue? Is it ok? Thank you everyone!**_

Soon imagination becomes reality. It is the foremost rule. The rule that she learned. We imagine. People do not imagine when they are happy. When the world is kind and gentle, people have no need to create a new one. But her world has been cruel. And things have happened to her. Things that should never have happened. Things that a child should not have to see.

A child should not have to see death. They are young. They are pure. The world can be anything they desire. But this person saw death in its masses. Bodies upon bodies. Imagination seeped in. Flying in a place far away. Free and beautiful. And the horror that her eyes beheld, was no longer real. The imagination became real. The beauty of ignorance became real.

It has been years. So many years. Who remembers what happened ten years ago? Everything. From the Suns position in the sky when she woke up, to the clothes she slipped on in the dark of night. The ships coming down from the sky. The fire. The explosions. The death of her parents as she watched. Blood. She had never seen blood spatter like it did that night.

Some things do not sink in immediately. She was so protected, above all the darkness in the world, in her home. Her happy child hood, her innocent youth. This challenged everything. To acknowledge, would be to accept. To accept would be to render her soul powerless to fight back. So she denied it. And she carried on denying it right up until the moment that the Titan came. Then denying was no longer an option. The choice was Join or Die. She didn't want to die. So she took his offer, forsook her identity, committed atrocities which once had been nothing but printed notes in History books. She lost her way. But she never forgave. And she never forgot, the days long lost. This woman's name is Gamora. This is the story of her fight.


	2. Chapter 2

**Marvel-Tolkein Fangirl - Thank you so much for your kind review! It means so much so thanks for taking the time! I hope you like this chapter! I have always wanted to explore Gamora's** life before the film.

To **everyone else, please review! It helps me keep writing!**

The lithe 17 year old glides out of the way as the dagger slices the air where she was only moments before. Her senses are attuned, electric, poised to strike. It is in these moments that she feels alive. And her hatred for her opponent doesn't hurt.

Nebula is not a real person. She's just an android. A robot android with shiny metallic skin all out together wrong, like she's a poorly stitched rag doll. Her eyes are black and unfeeling, every move executed with text book accuracy. The perfect daughter to Thanos. Until Gamora came. And redefined the meaning of power.

Nebula slices out with a roaring cry. Pain. The dagger slices through Gamora's shirt but it barely registers. A flesh wound is like no wound at all. The adrenaline is at an all time high. Gamora twists out of the way as her sister lunges to grasp her. It was supposed to be a perfect move. The Fight Master had taught her this move a thousand times. But she has miscalculated. And as Nebula's powerful hands grab her leg and her cold fingers dig into Gamora's bare neck, a shadow of fear passes over her. Not because of Nebula. Nebula has limits. Nebula has rules that she cannot break. But one rule that the Titan has set is the one regarding failure. Failure is unacceptable. It is the rule that Gamora has just broken.

Because she's pinned to the ground, an icy pair of fingers jabbed like fangs into her neck, painfully twisting her leg to the side. She can't move. If she can't move, she can't fight. And that means she's lost.

"What further proof do you need?!" Nebula hisses in her ear. "I am better than you!"

Gamora opens her mouth with a biting retort before a heavy voice seals off her response.

"I am unimpressed Gamora."

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Don't let the anger get the better of you. Though she sees red, blinding, scorching red . . . deep down she has to see. Has to understand that in this instance, she is powerless. And she hates being powerless. But it is the way it is.

Her face stays glued to the ground. If she sees him, she'll scream. But she does not have to see the Titan, to know that he is there. He radiates power, wields it as if it is a glove specially designed only for his divine hand. And evil. Gamora had never understood what evil was until she saw Thanos. It is the prickle along the skin, the taste of bile in the throat, the raw unrestrained madness that surrounds him. He is there. Just a few feet in front of them.

"You will try again." Never has she loathed a voice more. Whenever that voice speaks, something bad happens. Weight.

That is when she decides. It goes against all logic. It is stupid. But Gamora has felt powerless for too long. Like a puppet tangled on strings, dragged about to meet any whim. Like it doesn't mean anything. Like she doesn't mean anything. Defiance means something.

"No." The word leaves her mouth before she can stop it. Now there is no taking it back. That single word, which means - I defy you. Even Nebula gasps as she releases her vice like grip and Gamora stands up. She bites down the horror rising up in her. That's survival talking. Anything to survive. Even at the cost of what she knows, what she hopes is right. Her legs are trembling but she stands tall. She has spoken.

"What?!"

His voice is silent. Barely a whisper. Now she dares to step yet another step beyond the confinement. She raises her head. And meets the eye of the mad Titan. He stands at over nine feet tall, a hulking figure of warped red, with icy orbs of stormy grey. If gods are real, they would look like him.

That sensation. Why will it not stop! That apprehension that tells her enough, stop here. Clenching on her heart, cutting off her breath. The fear. She has to do this. At least to know that she can move. That somewhere in her mind, the voice of freedom has not given up.

"I won't do it again." Now her voice is quaking too. She can hear it. Her tongue getting dry, struggling to form coherent speech but it must be said. Or he will never know. That just because he offers he revenge, just because he has taken her in, she will not be restrained.

There is a pause. A pause that appears to last an eternity. And every second, another bead of sweat forms on her forehead, another tear threatens to fall, her entire body poised as if to take a hit to the face. Which would not be the first time for her insubordination.

"Fight Master!"

Gamora jumps. Her trainer appears like a wraith in the shadows at the corner of the Training Hall. He is small with dark beady eyes and straggly limbs. But the Fight Master is not to be underestimated. Gamora was in the infirmary for a week the first time she mocked him.

"Lord Thanos." He is eyeing his Master with anticipation. Oh she can sense it. His hatred for her. It as if he is being held back only by strings. Just give me the order. And I will put the little brat in her place.

"You witnessed the fight?" Thanos hisses.

"I did."

"And were you impressed with my daughter's performance?"

The Fight Master pauses. He knows the truth. He must know the truth. She's woken up at 5 every morning, fighting and practicing, she has done each and every thing that the Fight Master has asked. Yet it is as if he has forgotten as he straightens and declares solemnly, "No Lord Thanos. She is sloppy and unrefined. A gross embarrassment to my training."

Gamora gulps. It is more than an insult. She doesn't care about opinion, she cares about consequence. Thanos will not allow this to pass.

"Then punish her," Thanos says. He is not smiling. Not in his mouth, as gnarled and ugly as it is. It is in his eyes. That resting pleasure, the smugness. With every affliction, she is moulded to his whims. He knows it. She knows it. And all the denial in the wall cannot change the truth. And then he says the words that will seal her fate.

"The Red Room. She will be brought down to size."


End file.
